Tumgik
#My brain has been short-circuiting over them
lowkeyren · 2 days
Text
unrequited love...not!
in which — wriothesley is smitten with you just as you are with him. but you think he's in love with another woman, so sigewinne plays cupid (she's sick and tired of u guys) 
pairing — wriothesley x gn!reader
ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff, wc: ~900, no thoughts just sweet wrio, ty guys sm for the support so far xx love yall!!! likes n reblogs r appreciated <3
to say that wriothesley is heads over heels for you is an understatement. this man has been lovestruck ever since the day he laid his eyes on you. and he wasn't the type to be secretive about his massive crush on you, in fact; it's practically common knowledge for everyone in the fortress. sigewinne can only sigh and shake her head in disappointment every time she sees wriothesley showing his not-so-subtle affection to you (and you being blissfully unaware of the heat that rises up on his neck everytime you even show a hint of a smile) from afar. either way, it seems like wriothesley's feelings are no secret to anyone but you.
well it's not like you were completely clueless…. it's just that, the almighty duke of the fortress is an undeniably charismatic man, it's no surprise that many women flock to him like moths to a flame. and you weren't any different. truth to be told, you found yourself too, unable to resist his charms. each time he flirted with you, your heart raced without fail, cheeks flushed, and brain short circuiting, overwhelmed by his presence. —he never fails to notice your every reaction, catching every subtle flicker of expression, let it be the twitch of your lips when you try not to laugh at his jokes or the raise of your eyebrows when he mentions a topic that piques your interest. knowing that he also has this effect on you reassures him, that you felt the same way too… or do you? 
wriothesley sighed as he put down his teacup, closing his eyes and resting his head in his hands, eyebrows furrowed. what's gotten into you..? you have yet to visit him for the last 3 days, and frankly, he missed you. were you intentionally avoiding him? but to him it was clear that your feelings are mutual— you liked him and he liked you. 
though for you, it might have been a little more complicated. 
"well, care to explain? what happened between you guys…" sigewinne puts down the half used bandage wrap and turns to face you with a questioning look. 
"h-huh what do you mean…? everything's perfectly fine." you smiled and feigned ignorance —so poorly that sigewinne saw right through you the moment you opened your mouth. "tell me everything." she shoots you a pointed look. when you start talking again, she shows a hint of a smile that goes unnoticed by you. 
"i guess there's no point in avoiding this anymore… look, it may sound stupid to you but the other day, i saw wriothesley together with clorinde. i was about to go up to them, but! they seemed really happy together and i didn't wanna interrupt… they're quite close with each other so i thought they were in some kind of relationship, and i didn't wanna interfere with my own feelings… since clorinde is also a dear friend of mine after all." 
unbeknownst to you, while you were busy recounting, wriothesley had quietly entered and stood near the entrance. he could not wrap his head around why you would think that he could possibly be in cahoots with fontaine's champion duelist. sure they may be good friends but— he thought he made it clear that he wants you, and you only.
just as he was about to speak up, sigewinne butted in: "hey, so what you're saying is that you like him too?" with your head still hanging low, being too engrossed in this whole venting session, you have yet to notice wriothesley presence nor the ever glowing mischievous glint in sigewinne's eyes. 
"you need not to be so blunt…then if i must admit, yes i do like hi- huh? what do you mean "too" ?!"
as you stumbled over your own words, you made eye contact with wriothesley who was still frozen in the doorway. you could feel your heart racing, seeing the prominent flush on his cheeks —and yours too, you finally realize the truth of your mutual affection. 
sigewinne quickly excuses herself but not before discreetly giving you a playful wink and a thumbs up to wriothesley. 
"out of all possible ways, i did not expect you to confess your feelings in the midst of an unexpected revelation." wriothesley walked towards you with a huge smirk on his face, having finally got the confirmation that he has been longing for, from the very person he has been pining for since day one. 
you know he's teasing you even at a time like this so you too pretend to be unaffected, tilting your head to the left and folding your arms across your chest. 
"hmph... you should be oh so relieved now that you know your feelings are reciprocated." 
"yes of course darling. i feel complete whenever you are by my side. and i haven't been more happy than i am at this moment."
his words are sincere, a striking contrast to just a few seconds ago. you chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through you as you reached up to cup his face, with a cheeky smile: 
"just ask me the question already!" 
with a grin, wriothesley leans in closer to you, eyes sparkling with affection, the air tensing with pure sweetness. 
"will you be mine?"
ੈ✩‧₊˚ masterlist
123 notes · View notes
Text
Can I get some Christmas/Wintery prompts for my First Primes?
I wanna write seasonal for them but I can't pick what to do with who!
For them please?
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
5 notes · View notes
strwbrymlkshake · 1 year
Text
I don't think I've ever been in a relationship this healthy before I don't know what to do 💀
#mine#🎸#DUDE my feelings are so weird like i cant even describe them cause theyre all over the place. im hoping someone sees this and sends me an#ask or something with advice if this is even gonna make sense. because i am so confused lmfao#First of all im always expecting something to go wrong so i feel like it might be the absence of Problems thats throwing me off#But he reassures me all the time and genuinely cares about me? in regards to my last post we talked about it and he comforted me#i feel like im kind of in an emotional limbo where im still processing everything. my yan moments make appearances more than my dere#i feel so cringe saying that as a native english speaker. well im here to express my feelings not to be judged <3#but i definitely FEEL the jealousy more. like i exhibit both equally but im more emotional in a bad way than a good way#but its not cause of anything hes doing at all! hes perfect?! i dont know how to handle it!! i only know how to be jealous#at least if im mean im not as likely to get hurt and thats why im afraid to feel lovey things as much??? im making myself sound like#a bastard but ive just been feeling more anxiety and getting worried about Relationship Stuff and that kills the vibes#but he doesnt even mind he doesnt treat my problems like a burden. he isnt sick of them he doesnt abandon me. he loves me and i am still so#bewildered? like. hes the nicest guy ive ever dated. ill gush about new people i meet but they do have flaws. i just dont acknowledge them#because im so blinded by idolization. but for this one ive thought everything out i have PONDERED for so long and he really is just such a#good person. how? WHY?? he has not done anything wrong and its just my mental illness that causes ALL the problems. but he wants to#BE there and comfort me. what the fuck my brain is like short circuiting. people this nice exist? he doesnt want to use me??#and ofc this is all in the romantic sense. i still have friends that i value very much but this post is focused on romance#watch me say all this then he does something horrible. <-SEE IM SO NEGATIVE i expect things to go wrong#my main problem is im confused about my feelings they feel very tangled and muddled. im happy of course but i feel like the part of me that#feels romantic happiness/genuine satisfaction is all fucked up and broken. but he doesnt mind that im this way 🥲 WHY#HE ASSURES ME EVERYTHINGS OKAY he is there for me he cares about me but i cant wrap my head around it! im. this is so weird#one of my goals is to be less focused on being insane and actually get things done. w all my relationships i have a time blur thing#where i feel like time passes differently even more than it does for me. im just thinking so much bruh#right i think i was gonna go about getting adderall because of the everything all the time. im feeling numb but also#literally every emotion all at once. and it consumes me and my waking thoughts. i guess it was easier to ignore before?
6 notes · View notes
127rkives · 10 months
Text
uhhhh idk if anyone has discussed this before but... miguel likes to eat pussy from the back!!!
like idk, every once in a while, his brain goes brrrr and something short circuits. idk chalk it up to stress but it's more like some feral, animalistic urge. he can’t really explain it. it’s almost as if someone flips a switch, his mind goes blank except for the thought of needing to be with you, under you, in you. he has to stop whatever he’s doing and go find you.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
and as soon as he makes it home to find you relaxed on the couch, he's flipping you over, contorting you face down ass up, and he’s nuzzling into your clothed pussy like a dog in fucking heat. when he’s finally spent just enough time shrouded in the scent of you, he's yanking your shorts off. he’s been at this for approximately 2 minutes but there's already a wet patch in the center of your panties. that sight makes his pupils dilate before going in for the kill. his claws come out to rip your panties to shreds right before he straight up nose dives into your pussy, and granted you can feel him, the action still catches you off guard enough for you to emit a loud gasp. it’s just too much too fast. “mig- ohhh!~”
“mmm... mmmf” miguel gets so much satisfaction from tasting you that he releases moans of his own. they would be bouncing around the room and intermingling with yours except right now he can't bring himself to pry his tongue from the slick walls of your cunt. 
“oh my gosh- miguel!”
hearing you raise your voice in alarm while saying his name is enough to make miguel pause for a second. you take the moment of reprieve to look over your shoulder— huffing and puffing— only to be stunned by miguel’s animalistic look. his curls are messily hanging near his eyes which are dark, yet spacey as if he’s on another planet. his lips are parted just enough to show a peek of his fangs as he breathes heavily through his mouth after suffocating himself with your pussy, and a gleaming mixture of his spit and your slick is smothered over half of his face and all the way down to his collarbone.
“m- miggy could you just give me a few seconds?” you ask. miguel tilts his head to the side and scoffs. a curt “no” is all you get before miguel locks his arms around your thighs to drag you back to his watering mouth. you don’t have claws like miguel but if you did the couch cushions would definitely be in shreds from the way you’re gripping them. 
the wet slurps of miguel’s tongue lapping at your cunt are soon paired with two of his thick fingers easily slipping in thanks to your arousal. he scissors them for a moment before adding a third. the speed he uses to pump them in and out and the feeling of his slightly calloused fingers against your gummy walls leaves you floating in the clouds. you’re brought crashing back down, however, when a deep groan from miguel sends sparks up your spine. soon enough you feel pressure building at the bottom of your stomach, only it doesn’t feel like it usually does. in a fit of panic you try to drag yourself out of miguel’s grip.
“ohhh my go- miggy!” it’s all you can do to let out little slurred calls of his name, but it doesn’t matter. miguel’s not stopping until he’s satisfied. your escape attempts are useless, but the wiggling is enough to piss him off.
“querida. don’t move so much. be good.” but you can’t be still. the tingly feeling in your tummy is growing and all you can do let out breathy moans as you thrash around in ecstacy.
“ahh- i can- can’t help it!”
all of your moving loosened miguel’s grip too much for his liking. in less than a second, he's yanking you back towards his mouth and hoisting your hips just high enough to wrap his lips around your cute little clit. 
one hard suck is all it takes before you’re squealing at the top of your lungs. a scream of “miguel!~” is the only thing leaving your lips while your vision goes white and your breathing stops for a second. miguel is unrelenting behind you, switching to messily swiping his thumb across your clit and shoving his tongue back into your pulsating cunt in an attempt to catch every last drop squirting in to his mouth. 
even when your arms give out beneath you and you faceplant into the couch miguel is still lapping at your outer lips like he’s been saved after being stranded in the desert for a year.
and like that, it’s like the switch in his brain flips again. he smooths his hands up and down your trembling thighs and scatters kisses in a path up your back to the nape of your neck. “you okay, cariño?” a weak “mhm” is all you can muster up as you turn your head to flash miguel a floaty smirk. he smiles and chuckles, recognizing the foggy look in your eyes. covered in a sheen of sweat and high off the feeling of him is just one of the times miguel thinks you look the most beautiful.
after ghosting his hands across your skin and giving you a few minutes to calm down, miguel goes to gently move you to his lap. he buries his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling all of you. with the little strength you have, you wiggle around in his lap attempting to get comfortable but something is in the way- 
“ohh~” miguel’s breath is hot on your neck as he groans into it. his fangs graze your skin, his hands grasp onto your hips for dear life and oh...
someone flipped the damn switch again...
9K notes · View notes
Note
Alr hear me out, the service top lucifer with a very insecure reading. (Fem or GN) like he has to coax the reader to like open up (God damn I'm blushing thinking abt it-). Maybe even having to like talk them into even taking thier clothes off. Just a little idea stuck in my head.
Thank you very muchly.
Ooooooohh you’re giving me IDEAS (tbh I’d be the same boat)
~~~~
✨Opening Up✨
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Lucifer x f!reader
Warnings: 18+, smut, nipple play, pet names, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, service top!Lucifer
It has become evident that I am unable to write anything concise 😅
I’M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I MEANT TO POST THIS DAYS AGO 😭😭
Tag list: @trashbin-nie
@yellowsubiesdance
@j-jinxee
@stevensdickrider
@airwolf92
@mrssabinecallas
@myhornybrainonlyknowsthis
@bee-sinner
@thesoccerenthusiast
@katshyperfixations
@logybearsblog
@bigfatbimbo
Tumblr media
You sat upright on Lucifer’s king sized bed, the King of Hell straddling your lap. You don't know how you even ended up in this position, not on this bed necessarily, but how you ended up as Lucifer's beloved. You believed in your heart that you did not deserve him, but time and time again Lucifer has showered you with praise and adoration like no one ever had before. He was perfect. And you were...you. It didn't make sense.
Regardless, that didn't stop him from holding your face tenderly in his hands while he kissed you with a fiery passion. You were self conscious about being so vocal around him during intimacy, but he made it his mission to elicit as many moans and whines from you as possible. Slowly, he reached down to the hem of your sleep shirt, grabbing a fistful of fabric. Your eyes popped open, your mind racing. You pulled away from his lips and went to grab his wrist that held your clothing.
"I-I'm sorry, love," he apologized, releasing your shirt immediately. You sighed and let go of the grip you had on his hand. "I didn't mean to scare you, I should have asked. Please forgive me."
"No, no," you breathed, "it's alright. I'm not upset, I just panicked. I'm sorry."
Lucifer pressed his lips to your forehead and planted a small kiss. "Please don't ever think you need to apologize to me for how you feel, sweetheart."
"O-Ok," you stuttered.
"Do you want to stop?," Lucifer asked. You could hear the genuine concern in his voice. Hard as it was to believe, he cared about you more than anything.
You shook your head. "No."
"You're sure?," Lucifer questioned further, "because if you're uncomfortable, we can-"
You cut him of mid-sentence with a quick peck to his lips. He smiled bashfully, a cute blush spreading across his face. "Believe me, Luci, I want this. I mean I really want this, but..." you found it difficult to articulate what you wanted to say.
"Well, if that's the case darling, what if I go first then?," Lucifer proposed. You cocked your head, unsure of what he was talking about. He reached up and began to unbutton his shirt, starting from the top and working his way down. Oh...OH.
Your face instantly feels hotter and your breathing becomes staggered. You tried to say something, but the words caught in your throat. Your mouth had never felt drier. He finally reached the last button of his shirt and you finally see some of his chest. You could almost feel your brain short circuiting.
"Do you wanna do the honors, my dear?," he asked playfully. You gulped as your hands reached towards his shoulders. Gingerly, you slid his sleeves down each arm, slowly revealing more and more skin to you. Once his shirt was completely removed, you couldn’t help but stare. His chest was so smooth and toned, almost like it had been sculpted. “Like what you see?” Lucifer questioned coyly, noticing your unwavering expression of awe.
"W-Well that's hardly fair," you whispered, finally finding your voice, "you're an actual angel. Of course you're going to be gorgeous, I-" you slapped your hand over your mouth once you realized what you had said. "Please pretend you didn't hear that!," you begged through your hand.
Lucifer's face was flushed pink, he could help but smile. He chuckled as he went to remove your hand from your face. "Is that what you really think about me, sweetheart? I'm truly flattered to hear that coming from someone as exquisite as you."
"You...You really think..." you started to say but couldn't finish. Tears began to well up in your eyes, you tried to rub them away before Lucifer could see but it was too late. Lucifer cupped your face and ran his thumbs under your eyes to clear away the tears that had fallen. Your breath hitched, you tried to take in deep heavy breaths so you wouldn't start sobbing.
“Hey, hey, hey, shhhhh,” he spoke with a soothing tone. He removed himself from your lap and sat down next to you, embracing you in his arms. “It’s okay, angel, it’s ok. I upset you and I’m sorry, I never want to be the reason you cry.” He rested his head on top of yours while you clung to his chest. The scent of him hit your nostrils, it was like breathing in a warm spring day. Purely intoxicating. It calmed you down, you started to breathe normally again. You felt safe in his arms, you could have stayed there for the rest of your life.
You wrapped your arms around his torso, your tears finally drying. “Thank you, Lucifer,” you murmured. He gave you a tight squeeze before you lifted yourself back up, sitting at his hip and leaving your head on his shoulder. “You weren’t the reason I was sad, you know? You never have been.”
Lucifer turned his head to you, “Really? Then why-?”
“Because I’m afraid,” you quickly responded. “I’m afraid that I’m not good enough for you. That I never will be. You’re the all mighty Lucifer, King of Hell. You have so much strength and power and respect. And I’m…I’m just me.” You sighed and pulled your legs up to your chest to rest your head on your knees. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
“Darling?,” Lucifer spoke at last. He brought himself in front of you on all fours and placed his hand under your chin, forcing you to look at him in his scarlet eyes. “ “Just you” is perfect. You don’t need to be anything but yourself! I understand what you’re feeling, and it’s okay to express that. But please know that I love you just the way you are. You are my true strength.”
You chuckled softly, leaning into his hand that was now pressed against your cheek. You took his words to heart; he loved you. He loved you so much. You had to show him that you felt the same way. You drew in a few quick and deep breaths before reaching for the hem of your sleep shirt.
“Wait, wait, what are you-” Lucifer tried to say, but you were too fast. Your shirt disappeared from your body and was tossed across the room. Silence filled the space, the only thing you could hear was your heart threatening to burst through your chest.
It was at that moment you noticed you couldn’t see Lucifer’s face. His hands had flown up to block his view of you.
“Lucifer?” you called to him.
“Y-You didn’t have to do that, love,” he stuttered. “I never wanted you to feel that you had to-”
“Please look at me, Luci,” you pleaded. “I love you. And I trust you. Let me show you. Please.”
You saw Lucifer’s hands slowly fall away from his hands, his eyes still screwed shut. “Are you sure?” he asked softly.
You leaned in to plant a kiss on his soft lip. Lucifer’s eyes shot open in surprise, you pulled away before he had a chance to react. Blood rushed to your cheeks when you saw him staring at you. Your first instinct was to cover yourself and shy away, but you pushed those feelings deep down. You were going to be vulnerable, you needed to be brave. Not just for him, but for yourself. You gripped the bed sheets so hard that you felt your nails digging into your skin through the silk.
After what seemed like an eternity, Lucifer had snapped out of his trance. He started to crawl towards you on his hands and knees, only stopping when his lips were inches away from your own. You felt his hot breath on you, you were finding it more and more difficult to keep your composure.
“You…are breathtaking,” he cooed, crashing his lips into yours hungrily. His tongue begged for entrance to your mouth, and you happily allowed it. You felt yourself slowly drifting down onto your back as you and Lucifer desperately devoured each other. He pulled away from your lips, trying to catch his breath, but you noticed he wasn’t looking into your eyes. His attention had drifted a little further down. He swallowed hard.
“May I?,” Lucifer asked breathlessly. Your face felt extremely hot and you couldn’t find the power to speak, so instead you nodded your head vigorously. He gave you a cheeky grin before lowering his mouth down onto one of your nipples. The noise you made sounded more high pitched than you meant it, but God, did it feel amazing! His tongue worked one nipple as his hand played with the other. You loved the sensation of him sucking and licking at your sensitive skin, the tiny bites from his teeth driving you insane. He rolled your other nipple between his two fingers, the pinches he gave sent your brain into overdrive. You never knew how sensitive you were, but Lucifer was more than happy to service you.
All of a sudden you noticed a different sensation, you felt something press against your inner thigh, dangerously close to your clothed pussy. It took your brain a few seconds to realize what was happening.
“Uhh, Lucifer, a-are you…”, you mumbled. Lucifer looked up from your chest with a puzzled face. “I can feel umm, I-I can feel your uhh…”, you didn’t know why you couldn’t say it. Maybe you were too embarrassed, which seemed silly considering what position you found yourself in. You pointed down towards your pants where Lucifer was wedged.
“Oh…OH,” Lucifer exclaimed pushing himself from you and onto his knees. “Oh my gosh, I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you could uhh, feel that…please forgive me!”
Seeing him so flustered somehow calmed some of the nerves you had before. It was cute, really. Demon overlord Lucifer getting embarrassed about unintentionally pushing his hard on against your thigh. You let out a small giggle.
"It's alright, Luci," you chuckled. "I'm flattered, really!"
Lucifer smiled, placing his hand behind him to rub the back of his neck. "I'm still sorry about that, love. I'm a little embarrassed."
“Well,” you breathed, “I guess it’s only fair that I embarrass myself too then, right?” Without warning, you grabbed the waistband of your pants and ripped them off along with your panties in one fell swoop. You laid naked in front of Lucifer, whose whole face had turned a shade of red you’ve never seen before.
“Ffffuck,” was all Lucifer could muster. You watched his Adam’s apple rise and fall, attempting to regain his thoughts. Looking at you, it was plain to see how soaked you were.
“Like what you see?,” you teased. Lucifer nodded his head eagerly, still at a loss for words. You lifted your hand and curled your finger, beckoning him to you. Obediently, Lucifer crawled on the bed towards you with no reservations. “You’re not the only one that’s worked up here. Now we’re even.”
“My love, please…” Lucifer whined, “please let me taste you.”
"Don't you...wanna get more comfortable first?," you asked him, knowing the problem in his pants had probably only gotten worse for him.
"Not until I've had my fill of you, sweetheart," he smiled before forcing his head between your legs. The moan you let out was guttural, almost feral, he lapped your folds like a starving man. He took long, drawn out licks up your slit before focusing on your clit. His lips kissed and sucked on your sensitive nub, sending waves of pleasure throughout you entire body. You couldn't pull away if you tried, he had wrapped his arms under your legs so you couldn't escape his assault on your cunt.
"Sh-shit, oh-oh my God Lucifer, FUCK," you moaned. You could feel a smile form on his face as this seemed to have made him pick up the pace. You screamed from his tongue darting in and out of you, feeling so close to snapping. Your thighs started to fold in on his head and you grabbed a fistful of his hair trying to regain some assemblance of control. “Fuckfuckfuck, mmmm…gonna c-cum, aaggghh, gonnacumgonnacum!” Lucifer’s tongue relentlessly circling your clit finally caused your body to spasm, your orgasm causing you to scream out in pleasure. Lucifer didn’t stop though, he let you ride out your orgasm and hungrily devoured your release. Once you finally came down from your high, Lucifer lifted his face from between your legs and flashed you a toothy grin, seemingly quite proud of his work.
“You alright, darling?,” he asked innocently, almost pretending like he wasn’t the cause of what you had just experienced.
“Y-yeah, I’m…I’m fine,” you breathed. “Just…Jesus, that was intense! Give me a little warning before you go all in on me like that again!”
Lucifer laughed. “I’m sorry, love, I couldn’t help myself.”
You rolled your eyes at him playfully. “Oh, I’m sure you couldn’t. Now, let’s get these off you, hmm?,” you said tugging at his pants.
Lucifer stood up from the bed quickly. He undid his belt and let his pants drop to the floor. From the outlines of his briefs, you were surprised that they could contain him at all. Before he could pull at the hem, you jumped off the bed to stop him.
“Allow me,” you offered, getting on your knees in front of him. You reached up and grabbed onto his briefs, snaking them down his legs. His cock sprang free of its cage and hung in front of your face, its tip already leaking. Without thinking, your wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. Lucifer let out a moan that you’ve never heard before, filled with absolute lust and need. You took one of your hands and grabbed the base of his shaft, slowly stroking up and down while your mouth continued to work on his head. You ran small licks against the slit, tasting and lapping all of the precum that was forming. You loved the taste of him.
“Love…f-fuck,” Lucifer panted, trying to fight through his moans, “if you don’t s-stop now, I-I’m gonna cum. I wanna…wanna feel you. P-Please…”
Reluctantly, you pulled your mouth away from his cock with a *pop*, pouting slightly. Lucifer leaned down to grab your torso and tossed you onto the bed like you were made of paper mache. That angelic strength of his always caught you off guard. Lucifer crept between your legs, planting a tender kiss on your lips.
“I promise,” he whispered against your lips, “next time you can finish what you started, but right now I need you. Need to feel you.” Lucifer brought his fingers to your needy cunt, feeling the slickness of your folds. Your breath caught in your throat at the sensation. He took his other hand and lined up the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Are you ready, my angel?,” he asked softly.
You grinned and nodded your head. With that, Lucifer closed the space between you once more with a fiery kiss as his cock entered you inch by inch. Your cries mixed with his as he finally entered you completely.
“You feel…amazing, darling, fuck…” Lucifer choked out. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” you murmured, “I-I’m okay. You can move.”
“Anything for you,” he smiled. Lucifer slowly began to rock his hips into you, his cock filling you up completely with each thrust. You could feel every inch of him ruining your pussy, hitting just the right spot every time. It didn’t take long for his pace to become erratic and uneven. He buried his cock deep inside you, both of your moans filling the room.
“Lu-Lucifer, o-oh shit, Lucifer, I-I’m so close,” you pleaded. “Please don’t stop, p-please don’t.”
“Cum for me, darling. Wanna feel you cum.” Lucifer groaned. He bit down on your should as he continued to pound into you, biting and sucking your tender skin. You were shaking, he was going too fast, you were coming undone.
“Cuminme…FUCKCUMINME,” you screamed and wrapped your legs around him as your orgasm flooded over you. You felt your walls pulsating around his cock, it was too much for Lucifer to handle. You heard him cry out and felt him twitch inside you, filling you up with his hot cum.
Coming down from your highs, you both laid there for a moment trying to catch your breath. You played with Lucifer’s hair as he laid across your chest, completely worn out. A minute or two passed before Lucifer sat up and pulled himself out of you. He laid down next to you, staring at your flushed face.
“Are you alright?,” he asked. “Did I hurt you at all?”
“No, you didn’t hurt me,” you smiled. “That felt…really good. Thank you, for everything.”
Lucifer hummed and leaned up to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “No, thank you, love.”
You chuckled returning the kiss. “Would…you mind if I held you, Luci?”
Lucifer’s eyes widened, but he smiled wide. “Of course not, I’d love nothing more.”
Lucifer rolled on his side, giving you the chance to push your body against his back and wrap your arms around him. You both didn’t move until the morning.
~~~~
Tumblr media
Hope you enjoyed my second attempt at NSFW content lmaooooo
AND YEAH I MADE HIM THE LITTLE SPOON, IT’S WHAT HE WOULD WANT
2K notes · View notes
onelittlespiral · 5 months
Note
How about a jock twinning tf?👀
Looking alike, talking alike, then thinking alike
FML: Match
He never really stood a chance. The moment he walked into our new apartment together his days were numbered. No guy, and I mean no guy, can resist me for long. How could they, when it just feels so good to be me. He tried though. That first week he was a real prick. He would complain about my stuff everywhere, scoff at my friends, and try to cover up my scent. But 24/7 with me around starts to have an effect. I caught him picking up my stuff and stealing a quick sniff before throwing it in my room. The candles sat abandoned in his room. A pair of my boxers went missing. I finally caught him on week three. He was sitting, zoned out in the living room. It’s always so cute the first time they try to embrace it. Sprawled out on the floor, my boxers loose around his legs, hat backwards on his head. He already had a little beard going.
Tumblr media
He didn’t even bother getting up when I came in. He was lost in the scent of me, and his body was trying everything to become what it was not.
“Get up!” His body came to as he snapped to attention. He tried making excuses, his face was a mix of confusion and horror at what he was wearing.
“I am so sorry, I have no idea… what’s happening? What are you doing to me?!?”
“I’m just living it up bro, you’re the one sitting in my underwear. You trying to be all of this?” I flexed my biceps in front of him, watching his body begin to pulsate. “Just flex bro. Let it out, let me out.” His arms curled and posed, copying my form. His forearms exploded with muscle, as he began to shout:
“No, please, let me go.”
“You can leave at any time, you just have to want to.” I struck another pose, popping my pecs and flexing my abs. He moved in unison with me, his stomach sucking in as abs pushed out. Pecs punched out of his chest with force as his torso stretched to copy mine.
“Please… I don’t want this. Why- how are you doing this?”
“It’s easy little bro,” I sat into a deep squat. His eyes rolled back in his head as his lower body erupted. Muscle tore through him, filling out calfs, thighs, and ass all at once. “I’m what every guys wants, what everyone craves to be. My scent, my hormones, my whole aura has been filling you for weeks. I’ve been inside. You’ve just got to let me out. Now,” I stood back up, his body parodying along like a puppet. His body was ready, even when his mind was not, “FLEX.” I hit a double-bicep pose.
“Ah…AuGH-AHHHGAUH!”
I was let loose from inside him.
Tumblr media
It was like looking in a mirror. Fuck, I’m a stud. He was spacing out:
“Bro… no, fuck. Why, why do I sound like that?”
“You’re getting the full package little bro. You are going to look, sound, smell, think, and fuck just like me. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
He shuddered in response. Immediately his cock began swelling, snaking down his leg. His mind was saying no but his body was saying yes. By now his balls were pumping him full of my hormones, invading his mind and filling him with my horny thoughts. Hands gripped his cock as he began jerking off in front of me, speeding up his transformation. Drool dripped from his open mouth and rolled down his chest.
“No, please. Why-why does it… feel…so…goooood? Hu-ungh-uhhhHHHh…”
He was riding the waves of pleasure as they engulfed his brain. He never stood a chance against me, but it was still so hot to watch him submit to his fate. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over him, and slowly I watched the lights go out upstairs. He was just like me now. No, better. He was me now. It was time. I walked up and pulled his hands from his cock, and replaced them with mine. I furiously began jacking him off as his brain short circuited and he just writhed in pleasure.
“Ha-hahu-ugh-huhuhuhuuuu-uHH-“
I leaned in, and planted one kiss on his sweaty brow and commanded:
“Now CUM.”
Instantly he let loose, hitting the back wall. It covered my hands, just adding to the lubrication as I finished him off. Rope after rope flew across the room, until he was shooting blanks still thrusting against my hands. He slowly slumped to the floor
Tumblr media
“How you feeling bro?” I asked him
“Huuuuuuh…fuck bro I’m spent. You’re a god. How do you manage to get that much out of me every time?”
I chucked a bit. “I know all the right buttons to push bro. I just do what I would do to me.”
“God, I’m not gonna be horny for a week”
“Pfft, knowing you? I give it an hour.”
“God we’re so hot bro…”
The comment caught me a bit off guard. Did he… no. There wasn’t any part of him left that would know what just happened to him. I leaned in and gave my new doppelgänger a kiss:
“Yeah we are, bruh.”
1K notes · View notes
confused-wanderer · 8 months
Text
Duke pavlovs everyone.
He wants to help out. He wants to give back. But what can he do? He can’t teach anything to them that they don’t already know. Heck, every time he tries offering help, by the time they finish saying what he could do, the problem ends up being solved anyways.
However, not anymore. He’s trying to listen and not speak, observe as is the detective way. And as the recent and relatively normal addition to the batfam, he comes to a startling conclusion.
None of them eat.
And by that, Duke doesn’t mean that they go without food because they survive without it, he means that they genuinely forget to eat for long periods of time due to stress, long hours or other factors, and since vigilate-ing has been more or less their whole lives, they’ve forgotten what hunger even feels like, unless they’re actively reminded of it.
So, every time Duke comes over, he mentions that he’s starving. Then he goes into great length to describe just how hungry it is and what he’s craving. Ten times out of ten, everyone’s stomachs start rumbling before the entire family stares at the fridge in hunger.
And little by little, he starts making sure they associate yellow with him, and him with hunger. Every time he visits he makes sure to always wear or bring something yellow with him. Rubber ducky, high lighter, you name it. He even leaves little trinkets around the house, insisting it’s to give a splash of colour.
And it fucking works.
The whole family is on a stakeout, Batman and Red Robin updating everyone in how it’s going when suddenly there’s a pause.
Nightwing: .. Guys? Hello?
Red Robin: .. uh-
Spoiler: ?? Hello?? Did your brain short circuit??
Red Robin: *soft mumbling*
Robin: ?? Father? Could you compensate for Drake’s incompetence again?
Batman: … The gang is wearing yellow.
Robin:
Nightwing:
Batman:
Spoiler:
Red Robin:
*Stomach grumbling noises echoing over comms*
Spoiler: alright I think we’ve seen enough, move in?
Nightwing: Yes please before I start eating my batons
Batman: I’ve bought a restaurant. We can eat there later. Move in on three.
Red Robin: why the fuck do I suddenly want to eat the sandwich someone just threw in the bin?
Red Hood : JESUS FUCKING CHRIST YOU BETTER NOT YOU FUCKING UNHYGENIC BASTARD-
——————— later —————
At the mansion
Damian:
Duke:
Damian:
Duke: ? You need something
Damian: You. You did this to us.
Duke: LISTEN IN MY DEFENSE I DIDN’T THINK ANYONE WAS STUPID ENOUGH TO WEAR YELLOW IF THEY’RE TRYNA COMMIT CRIME AT NIGHT
3K notes · View notes
ceilidho · 5 months
Note
Hello~ new lurker here. I've been daydreaming about Price wanting a family, but not having the time to court someone, and two other possible scenarios came to kind.
Reader, not part of his team but works at the same base, who was just served divorce papers. She wanted kids, the soon to be ex-husband didn't and he found someone else. She doesn't *know* how to be a girlfriend anymore. She only knows how to be a wife.
Or
It's family day on base. Price is wistfully watching families show up for their soldiers. And overhears someone who is in the same boat as him.
"don't be getting babyfever."
"Too late. Want a baby. I want something worth retiring for."
you're hitting all my buttons with this :\\ I'm realllyyyyyy going heart eyes at the first idea though.
Poor reader who maybe got married knowing that her husband wasn't interested in having kids but hoping that she could change his mind. Then maybe accepting a childless marriage after years of being together, but always felt like she was giving up something immeasurably valuable to her, like giving away the future she'd always envisioned for herself.
Only to get hit with divorce papers after giving up so much of herself for her husband. She signs them in a daze because he's already moved in with his new girlfriend and she couldn't bear the humiliation of trying to beg for him to come back when he's already so clearly moved on.
Maybe Price has always been interested in her, but respected the ring on her finger and figured that he was just too late. A damn shame, but over the years that they've worked together, he's come to treasure her companionship. He treats himself to daydreams, to quick wanks in the shower before work so that he doesn't spend the day looking for her or hovering over her shoulder when he finds her. So he can pretend at being normal.
And his brain short circuits when she stops by his office one day and he glances down to her hands out of habit only to find them bare. No ring. Glances up again and really looks at her this time, the troughs under her eyes, dark circles from poor sleep, from crying, cheeks losing a bit of their plumpness from not eating right. Price doesn't even listen to the words coming out of her mouth, some request from her superior that she'd been tasked with bringing to him. It all falls to the wayside because her ring is gone.
He lets her confide in him, gives her his shoulder to cry on. Locks the door to his office and pulls her into his lap even though it's not appropriate, he's not her direct superior but he is a superior. He shouldn't be brushing his thumb under her eyes to wipe away her tears and speaking to her in a low, hushed voice, exhorting her to tell him everything weighing on her. He shouldn't be pitting her against her ex, telling her that he'll help her sell the house (she can't afford to buy her husband's half since it's in both of their names) and she can stay with him in the meantime.
He shouldn't feed into her anguish by telling her that he understands her pain. How much he's longer for a baby as well, just never found the right person, the right partner. The big, empty hole in his life that he's never been able to fill with work or friends or extended family. He shouldn't indulge himself in the way crying makes her pretty lips swell and her eyes go big and watery. He shouldn't nudge her into agreeing to move in with him when she's this vulnerable, still beaten up and hurt from signing the papers not even a few days ago.
He does anyway though :\\
1K notes · View notes
eternally-racing · 3 months
Text
kiss it better | lance stroll
Tumblr media
pairing: lance stroll x reader 
genre: fluff, smut  (minors DNI)
warning: oral sex (m! receiving)
wc: 1.3k 
summary: When you’re taking care of Lance after his biking injuries there’s a special place where he really wants you to kiss it better. 
author’s note: yes, this is 100% inspired from me watching DTS and Lance’s scene with Lando LOL
- - - 
The last 2 weeks had been an insane rollercoaster for you and Lance. What had started off as a fun experience biking with friends in Spain had turned into a nightmare as you and Lance spent the rest of your trip in the hospital.
You had been Lance’s angel throughout all of the recovery from his wrist injuries. Never before had either of you really thought about how much you do with your hands and feet, until you realized that it meant that Lance couldn't really do anything until the doctors had determined that he was recovered enough. “It would take more than a lifetime for me to repay you for this, baby” Lance always says as you help him out around the house. You truly didn’t mind it - doing the laundry, the grocery shopping, the cooking, the cleaning. “We do it for the people we love” you would always say. It’s because you knew that if the tables were turned that Lance would do the exact same for you, taking care of you 24/7 until you felt better. 
Your generosity is what makes Lance feel especially guilty. In the last 2 weeks he had been nothing more than a couch potato while you seemed to balance ten thousand responsibilities. You were already doing so much for him, how could you possibly ask for more? But you were walking around the house in the tiniest little shorts and a bralette that really felt like it barely counted as actually covering your chest. Lance definitely wasn’t complaining but looking at you was weakening his resolve with every passing day. Today you had taken to putting away the laundry, and with every time you bent over he could feel his boxers start to tighten. It was getting unbearable really, and the horniness in Lance’s brain was making it short circuit. 
“Y/N baby, can I get your help with something?” 
It feels like you’re there at his bedside before he can even blink. Your doe eyes are looking at him in a way that makes him want to give you the whole universe and it’s enough to make Lance want to bail on his request.
“No, actually I changed my mind I don't need - “ 
“Baby, please - I’m here to help you. What do you need?” You perch yourself on the edge of his bed, busying yourself but organizing some things on the nightstand. Lance’s cheeks are bright red but now he can barely look you in the eye. 
“It’s just been a really long time since I… yknow.” Lance glances down only slightly but it’s enough to give you an idea of what’s going on. 
“Oh?” 
“Oh.” 
“Well, I think there’s something that I could do about that.” you smirk slightly. 
Your hand slowly creeps towards where you know his cock lies under the bedsheets, and you gasp when you feel how hard it already is in your hands. You lean further down, laying your head so close, but still so far from where Lance wants you to be.
“No teasing baby” he mutters as he has to resist running a hand through your hair himself. The casts covering both his hands serve as a stark reminder of why he can’t do so even though he so badly wants to. You’re placing soft little kisses over top of the blanket, leaving the layers between you two as you creep closer towards his hardened length.
“I’m surprised I didn’t think of this before honestly. Like what were you going to do - suck your dick yourself?” 
You have your hands laid across Lance’s thighs and you feel them clench at the statement, which makes your jaw drop in response.  
“Oh my god, you’ve totally tried to suck your own dick before. This is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard of. If I wasn’t so horny right now I would make you tell me the story right now, but I definitely want to hear all about this later.” you laugh while still continuing your ministrations. 
Your monologue gets a little long and Lance throws his head back and whines. When you pull back the covers and his boxers, Lance’s cock is the hardest you’ve ever seen it - the precum that sneaks out of the head only adds to your arousal as you lick your lips in anticipation . When you run your fingers over it gently it’s enough to make the Canadian boy shudder. You take your time as you kiss up and down the inside of his thighs, running your tongue over everywhere except where he needs you most.
“Please Y/N - I’ll beg, I’ll do anything. I’m just a guy who hasn’t cum in over 2 weeks and has the most beautiful girl in the world on his knees in front of him - I might just cum the minute you touch me.” 
It’s music to your ears when you hear Lance moan as you lower your mouth onto his cock. You know his body so well that you know exactly what to do to have him seeing stars. His cock is hitting the back of your throat already and Lance can’t help the way his hips buck his cock further into you. Your hands come around to cover up the part of his length that you can’t fit in your mouth, working in tandem to make sure that you’re covering every single inch. 
“You’re taking me so well princess, feels so fucking good.” Lance is filled with nothing but praise for you as your head bobs up and down on his length. 
You’re gasping for air as you finally lift your head off Lance’s dick. You take it in your hands and slap your cheek a couple of times, enjoying the feeling of it against your skin. It’s when you reach to cup his balls in your hand that Lance truly feels like he’s in heaven, and he says exactly that. Even in your hands they feel full, so full of cum, and you can’t help but let out a moan yourself at the feeling. You give them each the attention they deserve before Lance begs for you to go back to his cock. 
You can feel Lance’s hips start to stutter underneath you as he starts to lose control. 
“Oh god Y/N I’m gonna cum, fucking hell.” Lance tries to lift your mouth off of him, telling you that he’ll cum wherever you’d like. There was no surprise that Lance was a tits man through and through and loved seeing thick ropes of his cum over your breasts. Sometimes you’d want it on your face, sticking your tongue out the catch as much cum as you can. But today you kept your head down, ignoring Lance’s warnings as you kept your nose buried firmly towards his pubic bone. 
“Princess I’m really gonna - fuck, fuck, fuck” Lance keeps chanting your name as he cums. 
There’s so much cum that you can’t keep it all in your mouth. It drips out of the corner of your mouth and down your chin which looks absolutely sinful. Lance wishes he could take a real photo but instead resolves to committing it to memory himself. As if that wasn’t enough, Lance moans watches you swallow, proudly showing off your clean tongue to him after the fact. 
“Have I ever told you that you’re the most amazing girl in the entire world?” Lance says as he pulls you into a kiss.
“Maybe a couple times, but I could hear it again.” Even though Lance is always a charmer, his words still make you blush every time. 
“How about I show you instead?” Lance gets you to lay on your back, switch your positions as he starts to nestle his face in between your thighs. 
“Wait baby, I don’t want to hurt you - you’re still recovering.” The worry is evident in your voice as you stop him from diving in further. 
“My wrists may be broken but my tongue works just fine, princess.” Lance says as he uses his teeth to pull down your panties. 
— – – – —
author’s note: that scene in dts was so iconic that i just had to capture it in a fic! hope u all enjoyed it :) Until next time! - Em 🩷
1K notes · View notes
avis-writeshq · 1 month
Note
hellooo <3
can i request a lil something for hotch about that one trend on tiktok “calling my bf my husband to see his reaction” thxx!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader genre: fluff, established relationship warnings: talks about marriage + commitment a/n: thank you for requesting lovely <3 wc: 650
Tumblr media
Aaron’s confusion is palpable when he watches you prop your phone up by the corner of the car so that the front camera faces the both of you. He’s well aware of how you make videos of yourself to post on the internet – it’s actually how Penelope set the two of you up – but he’s never really been in any of the videos you’ve posted. The two of you are just going on a fast food trip and as soon as you step into the car, he finds himself incredibly underdressed. Granted, you always look lovely, but you still look far too overdressed to go to a drive-through. 
“Are we going somewhere after this?” He asks slowly, his eyes raking over your figure and the way you fix up your hair. 
“No, honey, I just wanted to dress up.” You smile at him, leaning over the console to kiss his cheek. 
He frowns, a stark contrast to the brilliant blush on his cheeks and the redness of his ears. “This seems like a plot.”
“No plot,” you laugh again and turn to your camera. “Guys, my husband thinks that I’m plotting something. Can you believe that?”
Aaron’s brain short circuits as soon as the words register. His fingers go lax on the steering wheel and his jaw unhinges. He’s staring at you like you’ve got three heads and his blush travels all the way down his chest. He likes the sound of that. An entire lifetime with you flashes before his eyes and all of a sudden there’s a ridiculously wide smile on his face and his eyes are crinkled at the corners.
“You’re beautiful.”
You’re giggling. A hand over your mouth and your eyes have lit up with mirth. He spares a glance at the camera and he manages a small groan, covering his face with one hand in an effort to shield his reputation. You’re still laughing quietly, although your own cheeks are hot from his breathless compliments. 
“Was this all just for a video?” Aaron asks, moving his free hand to your knee and squeezing. “Sweetheart, that’s cruel.”
“No, it isn’t! It’s just a silly video, Aaron, it’s not cruel,” You say through a smile, and you stop recording and pocket the phone. “You reacted really nicely though, I’m sure the video will do well.”
“Do other people not react well?” He asks, concerned. He doesn’t really want to think about how other boyfriends react to their significant other calling them ‘husband’, especially when he can’t imagine ever having a life without you in it. 
You shrug as you respond, “one guy didn’t let his girlfriend finish her sentence before he was yelling that he ‘isn’t her husband’. Which is true, but he responded really quickly and really seriously that it didn’t seem like a joke. I don’t know how they are in real life though, so it could have been staged.”
His concern turns into one of mortification, mainly for the couple. “I don’t understand how someone could get into a relationship and have no end in mind.”
That alone is enough to have you swooning, and he leans over to kiss your forehead. You’re beaming at him, almost slyly, and he brushes your hair out of your face. 
“We should go somewhere nice,” He decides, sitting back in his seat. He puts the car into drive. “You’re too pretty to go to a drive-through.”
You’re laughing again as he starts driving in the direction of your favourite Italian place, one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh. You don’t know about the velvet ring box hidden underneath the drivers’ seat. 
Two weeks later, the video you recorded garnishes a whopping 23.6 million views, pinned beside another with a ring as the thumbnail. That video has a terrifying 43.9 million views, and Aaron is not spared any teasing. 
Tumblr media
reblogs are always appreciated !
events page
Tumblr media
933 notes · View notes
rebelfell · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
A li’l self-indulgent bestfriend!eddie fluff. Reader w/ boobies.
Tumblr media
Eddie’s not a total pig, okay?
He can control himself just fine when necessary. He’s fully capable of maintaining a conversation without his brain short circuiting at the sight of something that makes all the tiny Eddie’s in his head run around like chickens with their heads cut off. That is…except for right now.
Because right now there are boobs in front of his face. And not just any boobs. Your boobs.
“Eddie!” You huff loudly and drop your shirt. “You’re not even listening to me, are you?”
He blinks a few times, reluctantly coming out of his daze to look up at you and the appalled frown on your face. His cheeks burn with his humiliation and his mouth falls open as he stammers through his attempt to recall what you just said.
You roll your eyes, sighing all heavy and petulant as you climb off his bed.
“Hey!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up to really sell the ruse of being offended. “You’re the one whipping out your bits all willy nilly. Can’t exactly expect me to concentrate.”
Over your shoulder you fix him with a glare and snatched up one of his Hellfire figurines to chuck it at him. The freshly painted figure ricocheted off his elbow as he threw his arms up in front of him, fighting back giggles as you scolded him.
“I came to you for advice, not to be ogled!”
Well, that was your first mistake, Eddie thought to himself. Because when it came to you there was no scenario that didn’t involve ogling.
“I’m sorry. Okay? I…I got distracted. But that’s what you’re going for, right? Weren’t you asking if they look good?”
“It’s not about whether they look good, I just…I need to know if they look even.”
Even? Even, how? Even more fucking incredible than normal? Even more mouth-watering? Even better than what Eddie’s been imagining more and more over the last few years.
“Even, how?” he asks.
“Like…normal.” You groan. “He says one of them is way bigger and I thought maybe this bra would minimize the problem.”
“Problem?” Eddie snorted. “There’s not a single fucking problem with them.”
You roll your eyes at him again, but it’s not quick enough to hide the smile that started to blossom on your lips when he says that. Eddie’s bed frame squeaks in protest as he hops off the bed and comes to stand in front of you, solemn and serious in a way he almost never is.
“Sweetheart…they’re perfect.”
You’re perfect, he wants to say.
A little pride creeps into your voice as you tilt your head gently and glance briefly down at your own chest before looking back at him.
“Really?”
“Really, really. Literally, maybe, definitely, the greatest ones I’ll ever see in my life.”
A laugh bubbles out of his chest and you honestly feel like you’re going to melt into the carpet under your feet. And suddenly you can’t remember for the life of you why you even bothered with this other guy in the first place.
Because the guy you bought this stupid fancy bra for has never called them, or anything on you for that matter, perfect. And he’s never looked at you the way Eddie is looking at you.
You bit down gently on your bottom lip, absently walking your fingers along the edge of Eddie’s dresser, scratching at the chipped paint.
“Do you, um…do you think you got a good enough look?”
788 notes · View notes
pandoraslxna · 1 year
Note
okay what if neteyam makes you squirt for the first time and he’s just so amazed and finds it so hot that he overstimulates you, desperate to see you squirt again
adult Neteyam x female reader, minors dni 🔞
Tumblr media
Neteyam watches with wide eyes, how your clear juices run down the palm of his hand, over his wrist and then dribble onto a small puddle on the ground.
This was the first time something like this had happened to you, the first time you had squirted and you could feel the embarrassment spread all over your cheeks, tainting them red.
"Oh my— Neteyam I’m, I’m so sor–"
"Don’t you dare apologize", he cuts you off. Neteyam was still panting, leaning on his forearm to get an even better view of what was happening between your spread thighs. His fingers were still toying with you, spreading your puffy lips, thumb circling over your throbbing clit.
Everything felt so warm and sticky now, making you squirm as you became utterly aware of what had just happened. Neteyam’s hand was still drenched in your cum, but surprisingly, he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. Now it was your turn to watch him with wide eyes, as he suddenly brings two of his digits to his mouth to lick them clean.
"Hmm fuck, you came a lot. That’s so hot", he moans at your taste, tongue swirling over his fingers before he pulls them out of his mouth with a wet pop. "Did my pretty girl enjoy herself?"
"Uh-hu", is all you could manage to respond, feeling like your brain was dangerously close to a short circuit.
In an instant upon hearing your response, Neteyam‘s hand was buried between your legs once again, fingers prodding at your slippery entrance, causing your legs to twitch.
"Good. Because you will do it again", he tells you with a grin. You gasp when two of his digits slide into you with ease.
At this point, he knew exactly what to do to make you finish within seconds, so he begins to thrust them in and out at a rapid pace. Your hands claw at his forearm, moans spilling from your lips like a damn waterfall when he curls his fingers just right to hit that spongey little spot inside of you.
"F-Fuck, too much! Teyam it‘s— s‘too much!" You whimper, hips desperately trying to squirm away from his hands. "I- I can’t, I just came!"
"Oh, I know", Neteyam chuckles completely unfazed, "but you’re my good girl, aren’t you? You can take it. And you will cum for me again, right?"
He keeps pushing insistently against that spot, finger-fucking you so fast that you grew dizzy. "Come for me", he growled, "Come on me. Get me wet and fucking drench me." You couldn’t stop the stream of slickness from squirting out as soon as you hit your second peak, a steady flow that has your eyes rolling back, because of his thumb simultaneously circling your clit.
You didn’t know why it made you tingle all over, hearing him groan like it bought him pleasure as he watched you cum on his fingers, but you were so dopey and more satisfied than you’ve ever been.
You suck in a rush of air when Neteyam shifts to kneel between your thighs, grabbing both of your ankles, so that you’re nearly folded in half, before he lines his cock up with your entrance. With his thumbs, he spreads your folds and more of your juices seep out of you freely.
"You have such a pretty pussy, look how wet you are", Neteyam hums and you have just enough time to prepare yourself, before he thrusts his cock fully into you with a moan.
"One more time. Do it for me, sevin."
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
museanddream · 3 months
Text
The Show || Ona Batlle x Reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: Ona shows you how she likes to touch herself when you’re not around.
Warnings: 🔞 || masturbation, praise kink, bottom!ona
Word count: 2.4k
…..
“I want to watch you touch yourself.”
You see the exact moment Ona’s brain short-circuits behind her dark eyes. No doubt she’s imagining the scenario you’ve just suggested because her thighs clench together, leaving you to wonder exactly how turned on your girlfriend is before even being touched.
“Can you do that for me, beautiful?” you ask. “Show me how you get yourself off when I’m not around?”
Her cheekbones flushed a pretty shade of pink and her eyelids heavy with want, Ona nods and utters a soft, “Yeah.”
You reward Ona with a kiss, catching her lower lip between your teeth to pull another soft moan from her throat. Your hands find the hem of her t-shirt and tug it upwards, forced to break the kiss to do so but Ona lifts herself enough to help you pull it over her head. She’s not wearing a bra underneath and you’re treated to plenty of freckled skin but you want more. You slide your hands up Ona’s sides, enjoying the way her breath catches in her throat when you pass over a ticklish spot, stopping only to circle your thumbs over her nipples before tracing the same path down until you reach the waistband of her shorts, where you snap the elastic against her skin.
“These need to go too.”
Ona complies, thumbs hooking into the waistband as she pulls both her shorts and underwear down her legs and throws both to the side. She looks vulnerable, spread out on the bed without a shred of clothing, looking up at you with an expression in her eyes that seems to implore you to do or say something.
“Beautiful.” You appraise her body, running your hands over the smooth skin of her thighs until your fingertips tease at her hipbones. “You’re so fucking gorgeous. My beautiful girl.”
Ona shudders and whether it’s because she’s cold or painfully turned on, you aren’t entirely sure, but you do know that both of those things can be solved by kissing Ona until she melts into the mattress below her. You crawl up the bed and cover Ona’s body with your own, knees bracketed on either side of her hips, and press your mouth to Ona’s in an open-mouthed kiss. It’s imprecise but that’s what makes it better, knowing that Ona is already halfway to ruin when she hasn’t even been touched yet.
Your hands start to wander, exploring the vast amount of naked skin beneath you but deliberately avoiding the places that will provide Ona with any direct pleasure. You kiss her messily as your hands skate around the sides of her breasts, swallowing the moan that slips from her lips as you scratch your blunt nails over the ridges of her abs, before sending them right back up to her shoulders to start again. Your aim is to tease, to overstimulate her and drive her crazy to the point where she just has to start touching herself for you.
As your hands flit downwards again, dipping below her hipbones but still not between her legs, you feel rather than see the way that Ona clenches her thighs together, and you pull back from the kiss to smirk down at your girlfriend.
“Oh, is there something you want?” You can’t help but tease her. “You’re just desperate to put on a show for me, aren’t you darling?”
Ona’s response comes in the form of a delicious whine, her hips rolling upwards into yours, as much as they can while your body pins hers to the bed.
This might be your favourite version of Ona, lips kiss-swollen and long hair fanned out against the pillow, her dark eyes clouded with lust and barely coherent enough to tell you what she wants. It turns you on endlessly to know that you can reduce Ona to this state, that somebody who is so determined and assured in every other aspect of life can turn to putty so easily with just a kiss and a few dirty words.
“What do you want, baby?”
Ona is shy under your gaze, the confidence that she oozes on the football pitch gone in the bedroom, which is usually your domain to take charge, and you urge her on.
“Use your words, beautiful.”
“Please,” she gasps.
You reward her by letting one of your hands graze her nipple, and she arches her back into your touch, but you’re not satisfied with her plea.
“Please what?”
“Want you to touch me,” Ona rasps.
You lean forward, pressing a trail of open-mouthed kisses against the expanse of Ona’s neck, stopping just below her ear as your whisper, “I don’t think that is what you want. Can you try again for me?”
Ona tilts her head the other way in embarrassment and lets out a whine, then murmurs, “Want to show you how I touch myself.”
You’re not cruel enough to make her repeat the words again but louder, and instead reward her by saying, “Good girl.”
You roll off Ona’s body but reach for her face, cupping her jaw and tilting her head back towards yours as you join your mouths together in another kiss, somehow hotter and filthier than the last. You lick past the seam of Ona’s lips and she welcomes your tongue into her mouth with a gasp, one of her hands coming up to claw at your t-shirt as she tries to pull you even closer.
Your hand drops from her face, sliding down her shoulder and her arm as you continue to kiss, until you can loop your fingers through hers. Then you descend further, across Ona’s toned stomach and past her hips until you can nudge her hand between her own legs, finally releasing her fingers.
You whisper against her lips. “Go on. Show me.”
You’re close enough to hear the breath catch in her throat as her hand slides lower of its own accord and you lift yourself up, propping your weight on one arm as you gaze down her body in wonder and watch the hand that disappears between her legs. Ona’s eyes are closed, mouth slightly parted, a little crease of concentration between her eyebrows as her fingers dip lower.
She’s touched herself in front of you before, but it’s always been a part of something else. Quick fingers near her clit when you’ve already brought her close with your strap, or shaky camera angles over FaceTime while your hand works between your own legs. Never like this, never with the sole intention of showing you how she likes to do it, with every movement under scrutiny for your own viewing pleasure.
And what a sight it is.
“Fuck, Ona,” you praise your girlfriend. “You look so good like this.
Ona finds a bit of a rhythm and you watch the way that her wrist works as her fingertips dance around her clit. Your own hand finds her thigh, soft skin over hard muscle, and you gently draw her knee up to give yourself a better view. Her hips start to move in tandem with her hand, rocking against her fingers as her head falls back against the pillow.
“Tell me, Ona, what do you think about when you fuck yourself like this?”
“You,” Ona manages to gasp out, sliding her fingers lower and sinking them into herself once, twice, before she withdraws and returns their attention to her swollen clit. “Always you.”
Her fingers are shiny with arousal now and it takes a huge amount of willpower not to replace them with your own, loving nothing more than feeling Ona wet against your fingers or your tongue. But the sight of Ona grinding against her own hand is still evidence of how much she wants you, even indirectly, and you know this visual will be burned into your memory for a long time to come, keeping you warm on those lonely nights when you’re away with your respective national teams.
You want to hear more about Ona’s fantasies when she touches herself like this, so you press her for more.
“What do you think about me?” you ask, your fingers digging into her thigh as you continue to spread her open. “Do you imagine it’s me touching you? My fingers, my tongue?”
Ona keens at your words, hips rolling against her hand. You have to clench your thighs together, trying to quell your own arousal as you watch Ona give in to her own.
“You touching me,” Ona tells you, her voice low and hoarse. “You fucking me, your hands, your mouth. Telling me how pretty I am, how good I am for you.”
“You are pretty,” you tell her. “Fuck, Ona, if only you knew how beautiful you look for me right now. So good, showing me how you fuck yourself. Go inside for me, love. Show me how you pretend your fingers are mine.”
Ona obeys, hand moving further down as she slides first one finger, then two into her dripping hole. You can hear the wetness as her fingers pump in and out, imagining how warm and tight it must feel, watching in wonder as Ona’s hips cant against each thrust with greater abandon. Each moan that slips from her lips is like a symphony in your ears, the sight of her freckled skin flushed pink and writhing on the sheets more beautiful than the greatest works of art. Ona is simply divine as she takes her own pleasure, giving you a hundred new fantasies as she gives in to her own.
“It feels good inside, doesn’t it?”
“Uh huh,” is all Ona manages to grunt out in response.
“Imagine they’re my fingers,” you tell her. “Imagine it’s me inside you. Me filling you up, taking what’s mine.”
“Please…” Ona whines.
“Please, what?” you ask her, using the hand not on her thigh to sweep away some of the loose strands of hair plastered to her now sweaty temples.
“Please let me come.”
“Such a good girl,” you praise her. “Asking for my permission. Go on, cariño. Show me how you make yourself come.”
With two fingers still buried inside herself, Ona sends her other hand down to rub frantically at her clit and it takes just seconds for her to fall apart. Her back arches off the bed, her abs twitching and her legs shaking as she rides her way through tremor after tremor of pleasure and all you can do is soothe her, running your hands over every inch of her that you can reach as you press kisses to her neck and collar bones and murmurs words of encouragement into her hot skin.
“So beautiful. So good for me. Fuck, baby, I’m so turned on just watching you make yourself come like that.”
Ona lets out another cry as the final aftershocks ripple through her body, turning her head to nuzzle into your face as she slowly drags her hands away and the climax subsides.
She looks blissed out, cheeks pink and eyelids heavy. You reward her with another kiss, slower than before but no less messy, mostly due to Ona’s fucked out state beside you.
“Did that feel good?” you ask, running a hand over her stomach, her abs twitching with the sensitivity of your touch.
Ona doesn’t say anything, just lets out a hum that sounds like an affirmative, so you continue.
“Cause it looked good. Fuck, Ona, you did such a good job getting yourself off.” You entwine your hand with Ona’s, looking in awe at the stickiness that coats your joined fingers. “Look at what a mess you made, it’s almost like you don’t need me at all.”
You know exactly what you’re saying and Ona, especially in this state of post-orgasmic euphoria, is predictably needy.
“I do,” Ona rasps, her voice a little hoarse from moaning out her orgasm just a moment ago. “I always need you.”
“You do?”
“It’s always better when it’s you.”
You go on as if to kiss her again, nudging your nose against her, but stop just before your lips can connect.
“Yeah?” you breathe into the almost non-existent space between your mouths.
Ona nods, tiny movements of her head as her eyes go cross-eyed to stare back at you.
Your mouth curls upwards in a slow smile, a plan forming in your mind, and you press your lips not to hers, but to her neck. You start your descent, pressing kiss after kiss against Ona’s warm skin as you go. When you reach her tits you wrap your lips around a dusky nipple, and when her back arches off the bed in response, pressing herself further into your mouth, you maneuver so that you’re half on top of her again, slotting one of your legs between hers. You’re still clothed, though your legs are covered in just a skimpy pair of training shorts that you’re pretty sure are actually Ona’s, and you press your bare thigh against the heat between Ona’s legs.
She lets out a gasp, her hand coming up to find the back of your head and threading her fingers through your hair.
As your mouth leaves her nipple with a wet pop and continues the descent down her body, she seems to realise what your destination is and lets out a keening whine.
“I don’t think I can,” she tells you.
You shift your position again, taking advantage of the fact that Ona is still relaxed and slightly spaced out from the recent orgasm she gave herself to reposition her legs until you can settle yourself neatly between them.
“You can, baby,” you assure her, as your mouth moves over her stomach, the lines of her abs and hipbones guiding you lower towards the wetness between her legs. “You did so well showing me how you touch yourself. Let me reward you.”
True to your word, this is supposed to be a reward not a punishment and when your mouth finally reaches Ona’s cunt, you’re ever so gentle with her. You lick from bottom to top, keeping your tongue flat as you reach her clit, aware that she’s still too sensitive for anything precise. Humming at the taste, you focus more on cleaning up the evidence of her first orgasm than giving her another.
“Okay?” You lift your mouth only to replace it with a finger that teases at her entrance.
Ona exhales softly.
“Yeah.”
“You think you can come again for me?”
Ona pauses for a moment, just long enough that you worry she’s going to say no, but she eventually nods.
“Yeah.”
You press a kiss just above Ona’s clit.
“Good girl.”
…..
Part 2 coming soon…
557 notes · View notes
eoieopda · 1 year
Text
the one with mingyu and the twin bed
Tumblr media
summary: you brought your boyfriend to your parents’ house for christmas dinner. he can’t get a grip because you can’t keep yours to yourself. pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader type: drabble (smut) | rating: 18+ | wc: 3.5k au: est. relationship, home for the holidays cw: teasing, teasing, teasing; unprotected sex; mingyu is a pouty lil simp; multiple orgasms; reader rides it like she stole it and has to keep him quiet in the process :’) a/n: nobody asked, i just have mingyu brain rot 🥲 🚨 MINORS OR AGELESS BLOGS WHO INTERACT WITH MY CONTENT WILL BE BLOCKED. MY WORK IS NOT FOR YOU.
You might kill him. And really, if that’s not your goal, it’s still the most likely result. This road you’ve chosen starts with a squeeze of his knee under the table, travels up his thigh and — well, Mingyu can imagine how it ends, but not when or where. That’s the problem.
Well, that’s the primary problem. 
The worst part about it all is that you look so unbothered by it all. You’re laughing through conversation with your parents, who sit on the opposite side of the table, like Mingyu isn’t on the brink of passing the fuck out beside you. Like his slacks aren’t squeezing the life out of him in the same torturous way your hand is. 
You’re moving so slowly that the table cloth doesn’t even flutter with your secret ministrations.
He knew you were a devil, but what fresh hell is this?
“— feeling okay?”
Mingyu has to blink himself back into reality to realize he’d been spoken to. Your father, who Mingyu had thankfully met before tonight — and made a positive, sustainable first impression on — looks concerned. His eyebrows furrow the same way yours do when you’re worried.
“Sorry,” Mingyu starts by clearing his throat. He flashes a smile that makes your mother blush, not unlike the way you usually do. “I was daydreaming about that galbi jjim from earlier. Don’t know if I’ll ever eat better.”
That’s a lie, he thinks immediately. Dessert is one seat over, fingertips whispering over his inseam, and Mingyu’s mouth is already watering at the thought. But he’s stuck. You’re untouchable as long as the pair of you are at this table, and you’re untouchable upstairs for more reasons than one. 
Your mother is flustered — so is Mingyu, but for an entirely different reason — and she glances up at your father. His smile is a flat line, but it reads like approval. She elbows him gently.
“See, yeobo?” She quips, “I told you he was charming.” 
Then, she turns to look at you with a firm nod. “You picked well.”
“To be clear, Mingyu picked me,” You laugh, waving your free hand dismissively.  “With the amount of girls queuing up for his attention, he had options — a lot of them. I just lucked out.”
At this, he short-circuits, so much so that he nearly sprays the wine he’s sipping all over the table and your unsuspecting parents. 
“Oh, no, no. Not even close,” He sputters, earning a surprised giggle from your mother. Faked offense pulls the corners of his mouth down, puckers his lips into an pout around his words. “I had to beg for your phone number, if I recall —”
“Did you really?” Your mother gasps. Her hand flies up to cover her mouth, as if she’s watching one of the daytime dramas she’s always talking about.
Your father looks smug as he reaches his arm out over the table, fingers closed over his palm. The hand you aren’t using to commit unspeakable crimes lifts to meet his fist over the acorn jelly, knuckles tapping lightly. 
Your father smirks, “That’s my girl.”
You look at Mingyu fully now, not from the corner of your eye the way you had been. It’s downright spooky how your face can look that innocent at a time like this. That is, until you bite down on your plush lower lip.
Fuck.
Is he about to faint? He really might faint.
“Okay, fine. You’re right,” You demur with a shrug.
That sweet smile of yours is unbelievably misleading, but goddamn, does it look good on you.
“I didn’t make it very easy for you, did I?” 
He tries not to clench his jaw when you flatten your palm and squeeze the highest, innermost part of his thigh. He fails miserably. After all, you’re running out of real estate; and Mingyu’s running out of resolve. 
This is it for me, he thinks. Remember me as I was: a fucking simp.
Thankfully, both of your parents stand up to carry dishes off to be washed. They cross the threshold into the kitchen and miss the way Mingyu’s head slumps back against his chair. So desperate and defeated, he ignores the way his skull aches after colliding with the oak backrest.
He squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the sweet release of death.
When their footfalls are no longer audible, Mingyu assumes they’re out of sight. You shift, but he doesn’t crack his eyes open until he feels the heat of your breath on the shell of his ear. His gaze locks on the ceiling when you whisper, “Can you blame me? It’s so cute when you beg.”
If his dick strains any harder against his pants, the zipper may break.
“You’re trying to kill me,” Mingyu gulps. He shakes his head, voice wavering. “Baby, I’m gonna drop dead in your childhood home — on Christmas, no less — and it’s gonna be all your fault.”
The tip of your nose nudges the side of his face as you place a kiss on his earlobe. The white knuckle grip he holds on the edge of the table is the only thing keeping him together, and you know it. Still, the feather-light touch of your fingertips finds what it’s after. They trace the outline of his bulge through his slacks, and before he can stop himself, Mingyu audibly sighs.
He’d tell you to stop if he could jumpstart his brain. That’s a lie, he corrects himself. He doesn’t want you to stop; he just wants you. Wants you so badly that it hurts.
“Attempted murder,” Mingyu mumbles helplessly.
God, he’s pathetic.
Head slumped to the side, he finally allows himself to look at you. Immediately, he has to wonder: is there anyone who wouldn’t beg for you? He’d be on his knees in a heartbeat if your parents weren’t loading a dishwasher, several meters away. He’d clear the table himself, too,  if sweeping his arm overtop and sending silverware to the ground counted for anything.
Unbothered by the internal crisis you’ve started in him, you stroke him slowly, like you have all the time in the world to end him; and not a care at all that you might get caught in the process. The kiss you leave on his jaw is so soft — and so laughably chaste, all things considered — that he’s not sure it even happened. To keep from pleading out loud, he grinds his teeth even more harshly together.
Are you there, God? It’s me, Mingyu.
His prayers are answered immediately, which makes him a little bit suspicious — and a lot more feral.
You hum, amusement downright musical, and he shivers. “I’m going to help them finish down here. Wait for me upstairs?”
When Mingyu shoots up to his feet, the force of his thighs against the underside of the table threatens to flip it. The remaining wine glasses wobble in place, but thankfully, you’d all killed the bottle some time ago; no drop is left to be spilled. He still cringes at the close call, though. With a grimace, he mutters rapid-fire apologies — whether to you, the glassware, or the God of Dirty Thoughts, he’s not sure. 
You trap your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from laughing, which Mingyu appreciates. His clumsiness would have been embarrassing if he wasn’t so incomprehensibly horny. All that blood flow has been redirected away from his brain, though, and his dirty mind can’t focus on how not cool he’s being about all of this. 
Just you, that little smirk on your lips, and the million ways he wants your mouth on him.
Once he steadies himself, it only takes a second for Mingyu to race towards the stairs. Any and all chill he might’ve had is left behind him in a cloud of dust.
It’s downright cartoonish, the way he scrambles up the steps — stumbling, knees colliding with the hardwood as he goes — but it’s effective. He reaches the landing in record time, then all but kicks open the door to your childhood bedroom. As soon as the doorknob collides with the wall behind it, Mingyu freezes in place.
That wall, he realizes, is the only barrier between your room and your parents’. Worse, your old bed is set longways against that very wall. And because the hits just keep on coming, it’s a twin bed. 
With a frilly purple duvet and shockingly minimal surface area, no less.
Horrified, Mingyu steps forward and places his hand flat against the small mattress. It doesn’t take much pressure to make the bed springs squeak — when has anything ever gone his way? — and that revelation nearly has him screaming obscenities at the ceiling.
Fuck. 
Fuck. 
How is he supposed to fuck you under these conditions?
Frantic, he closes the door behind him, shuffles forward, and drops to his knees next to the bed. At his height, the frame barely reaches his midriff. Clearly, his life is a fucking joke.
Elbows now resting on the mattress, Mingyu clasps his hands together and leans forward to rest his forehead against his knuckles.
He’s never tried this before — not earnestly, anyway — and he doesn’t know where to start. Whatever the reason, he’s sure he can’t pray to any listening deity to let him get his dick wet. Anyone who hears his cry would smite him on the spot, he thinks, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Before he can settle on a prayer, footsteps sound off on the stairs just outside the door. The words are muffled; but there are multiple voices, which tells him that one or both of your parents have joined you on your journey upstairs. Suddenly, Mingyu is overcome with guilt. 
He’s in their home, having eaten their food — and now he’s a full-blown heretic, wanting nothing more than to devour their daughter like a man starved. But he can’t because, if he does, they’ll hear every dirty detail and —
Mingyu is many things, but he is not quiet.
You are, however, and he can barely make it out when you say, “Thank you, again, for dinner. And for letting us stay overnight.”
“Oh, don’t you dare!” Your mother peeps. Mingyu freezes, knowing in the rational part of his brain she can’t see him, but unable to stop himself. “It’s our pleasure! Really, it’s a long drive back for you two —”
Your father interjects, “— and Mingyu must be exhausted if he’s already in bed.”
For personal reasons, he thinks as he squeezes his eyes shut, I will be passing away.
There’s a moment of silence in which you must be hugging your parents goodnight, then there’s the quiet creak of the door opening. Footsteps, then more silence — you pausing for a moment, likely taking in the sight of him, then the door shutting softly behind you.
He can’t hear your approach over the hammering pulse in his ears, but he can feel the warmth of your body when you stand closely behind him. On instinct, he leans back onto his heels. A reflex of your own, you card your fingers through his hair and turn him into putty.
As embarrassing as it is to reckon with the fact, Mingyu acknowledges that the massage of your fingers might make him cum in his trousers.
“Were you praying?” You whisper, giggle evident despite the hushed tone. Your fingernails rake gently over his scalp; he swallows hard.
Mingyu is past the point of attempting nonchalance, so he confesses immediately. “Need divine intervention at a time like this. A twin bed? Parents? I’m doomed.”
“Maybe.” You lean down over his shoulder to purr into his ear. “Doomed or not, you look so perfect on your knees.”
That comment reverberates down his spine, ricochets off every vertebrae as it goes. He has to bite down on his fist to keep from groaning. It sure as shit doesn’t stop his eyes from rolling back in his head.
You drop your hand from his hair to trail your fingers down the length of his neck, then across the top of his shoulder. As you do, you step out from behind him and into his line of sight. You, illuminated only by a small, butterfly-shaped lamp, confirm his suspicions:
Ariana Grande was right all along. God is a woman.
You maintain eye contact as you reach behind your back and begin unzipping your dress. The burgundy fabric pools at your bare feet, having slipped right over the silkiness of your thighs without issue. If he wasn’t already in his knees, Mingyu would’ve dropped the same way.
“How confident are you that you can be quiet?” You ask softly. “Stakes are high, and you’re normally so vocal.”
Right out of the gate, he trips.
Mingyu responds with bravado and without whispering, “I can do it.”
Then, he slaps his hand over his big fucking mouth.
Biting back a smile, you reach out for the collar of his shirt. The buttons are undone with care, like any and every decibel is too much of a risk. You hum as you continue your work, “We can make it a challenge, then. If you can stay quiet, I’ll let you cum.” 
He lets you slide his shirt off his frame as soon as you’re finished with it. It lands where your dress did, wrinkling white on top of red.
“If you can’t  —” You pause and gesture down to his belt buckle, which he’s already gripping tightly to. It’s undone before you can blink, which causes the side of your mouth to twitch upwards. “— I’ll stop.”
Mingyu nods, more determined than he’s ever been, and pushes himself to his feet. Less nimbly than you, he fumbles desperately with the button and zipper at the top of his trousers. Eventually, he frees himself and they drop, too. They land with a muffled sound before being kicked blindly aside.
Your gaze drops to his briefs, pupils dilating when you see the mess you’ve made of him. The dark grey fabric is close to black at the tip of his dick, arousal seeping into the fibers and tattling on him. That is, if the blatantly thick imprint of his length hadn’t sold him out already.
His knees threaten to buckle all over again when he sees a flash of pink swipe over your lips, wetting them as your eyes grow even darker.
No, he really might cum on the spot.
You step over your discarded clothes. Closing the distance, you flatten your palms against his bare chest, push up on your toes, and kiss him properly for the first time in hours. His only instinct is to whine like a fucking baby when his lips part and you lick into his mouth, but he refuses to break this close to the starting whistle.
No, Mingyu will keep his shit together. He has to keep his shit together — even as you suck his bottom lip into your mouth and release it swollen with a pop.
“What do you want, baby?”
He doesn’t know if it’s his chest or your hands that are burning up, but a wildfire spreads as you run your palms down from his pectorals to his abdomen. Every muscle in his body tenses as your touch lowers. His lungs seem to, too, because he struggles to keep his breaths even.
Your fingers hook under the waistband of his briefs, knuckles tickling against the sensitive skin underneath his hip bones. You continue your questioning, as if he trusts himself to answer.
“My mouth?”
Oh god.
He wants it all, always and every which way, but he knows he won’t last a goddamn second in your throat — and you know it, too, even before he furiously shakes his head. 
Eyes laser focused on you, he does his best to beg without words. The puppy-dog eyes win you over every time.
When you smile at him like that — petal soft, still so devilish — he audibly sighs. There’s no helping him, he knows it. It’s a reflex, a rubber mallet to the knee. Thankfully, you let that breathy concession slide; let his briefs slide, too, until they drop unwanted around his ankles.
Mingyu is so hard that it hurts.
He’s a throbbing, leaking mess when your hand finally — fucking finally — wraps around his cock. Experimentally, you give him a light squeeze while you work the length. Your gaze flicks upwards to gauge his reaction, wrist rolling when you reach the crown.
If he had to guess, Mingyu would bet that he’s turned purple with the effort it’s taking to keep his needy mouth shut. But your eyes twinkle up at him and you tell him that he’s beautiful; and suddenly, his chest and cheeks go a shy shade of pink.
“Lay down, pretty boy,” you whisper, nodding your head towards that shitty little bed.
As he stretches out onto his back — to the best of his ability, with his heels nearly dangling off the end — he swears on his life that his friends can never know how weak he gets when you call him that.
You place your hands on his chest to keep your balance, lifting one leg over his until you’re straddling him. Your right knee settles uncomfortably between his leg and the wall, but you don’t complain. Instead, you look him dead in the eye and pull your fatal, black thong to the side.
Even in this piss-poor lighting, Mingyu can see the way your darkened eyes glint. He’s spellbound — there’s no other word to describe it.
One hand takes hold of his cock and lines it up to your cunt. The other raises to your lips, index finger extended. You tease him without saying a word, and he hears it loud and clear.
Oh, he’s going to be so good for you.
That’s what he tells himself until your arousal makes contact with the tip of his cock. That’s what he repeats in his head, over and over, when you sink down and gush around him, slick dripping to coat the centimeters that don’t quite fit inside of you. What he says out loud, elongated and definitely above a whisper, is:
“Fuuuuck.”
You quickly lean over his chest to cover his mouth with your hand. Though your pulses are both racing, he’s less focused on his total, abject embarrassment than he is on the amusement that causes your mouth to curve.
Keeping your hand where it is — for the good of everyone, really — you nip at his earlobe. He waits for the inevitable consequence of his actions.
Goddamn it. How stupid does he have to be to forfeit a prize like you?
“You don’t listen very well, baby,” Your hushed tone drips like honey into his ear. Involuntarily, his hips jerk upwards, pushing further into your wet heat.
Any distance is too much.
“But you feel so fucking good —”
Again, he ruts against you when your teeth graze his earlobe. Under your palm, his whimpering is unintelligible, but that doesn’t stop him. You catch his groan in your hand before it can hit the air.
“— might have to bend the rules for you.”
It’s torture. 
Mingyu knows you’re moving this slowly to avoid upsetting the box springs below, but whether or not there’s method to the madness, it’s still unbearable.
You swirl your hips in a way that makes his vision go white at the edges, grind down into his lap with quiet precision. He can feel that soft, spongy spot hiding behind your front wall; and he can hear those delicate little sighs as you fuck yourself deliberately.
He can feel his mind go blank, too, moments before your cunt milks him for all he’s worth. You don’t stop once he spills himself inside of you — you won’t, he hopes.
“Oh, shit,” you whimper, almost inaudibly. “I’m so close.”
The hand not covering his mouth disappears between your legs. If the way your eyes roll back is any indication, you’ve found what you were looking for. 
The sight of you is too much for Mingyu to handle. Nipples peaking through the translucent fabric of your bralette, wrist moving in the opposite direction of your hips, eyelashes fluttering while you rub spirals into your clit. Perfect, top to bottom.
Mingyu cums again when you do, refractory period be damned.
And when you collapse down onto his chest, walls still fluttering around him, he encircles you with his arm so tightly that he can feel you trembling through the aftershocks. With your face now nuzzled into the crook of his neck, the tables turn.
“Fuck,” you mutter. The sound is mostly lost against his skin, but there’s enough volume to make you both start to snicker.
You kiss his neck, nudge him with the tip of your nose. Whispering, you ask, “Not bad for a twin bed, huh?”
Mingyu snorts. “Kinda feels like high school. You know, parents on the other side of the wall, cute little bedspread,” His voice trails off so he can press his lips against your temple. Voice low in your ear, he smirks, “Nutting within thirty seconds.”
Your muffled laughter shakes his shoulders, too. Then, you fall into a silence so easy he’s sure you’ve fallen asleep on top of him. To his surprise, you peep, “I didn’t think this through.”
He hums inquisitively in response. You crane your neck to meet his eyes. 
You inhale deeply, then sigh, “I have to waddle down the hallway of my childhood home to the bathroom — right past my parents’ door — and pretend like we didn’t just do what we did.”
Mingyu flashes you a wolfish grin that catches you off guard. Your eyebrows raise in anticipation.
“Need some divine intervention, sounds like. Maybe if you pray about it —” 
The only thing louder than the playful smack you land on his bicep is your laugh, straight from the bottom of your chest.
2K notes · View notes
Text
More Lucifer x f!reader stuff!
I was sent an anonymous prompt for more Lucifer x reader and I got a little done! This will more than likely contain more NSFW later, but this snippet doesn't have any so no active warnings!
You sat upright on Lucifer’s king sized bed, the King of Hell straddling your lap. You don't know how you even ended up in this position, not on this bed necessarily, but how you ended up as Lucifer's beloved. You believed in your heart that you did not deserve him, but time and time again Lucifer has showered you with praise and adoration like no one ever had before. He was perfect. And you were...you. It didn't make sense.
Regardless, that didn't stop him from holding your face tenderly in his hands while he kissed you with a fiery passion. You were self conscious about being so vocal around him during intimacy, but he made it his mission to elicit as many moans and whines from you as possible. Slowly, he reached down to the hem of your shirt, grabbing a fistful of fabric. Your eyes popped open, your mind racing. You pulled away from his lips and went to grab his wrist that held your clothing.
"I-I'm sorry, love," he apologized, releasing your shirt immediately. You sighed and let go of the grip you had on his hand. "I didn't mean to scare you, I should have asked. Please forgive me."
"No, no," you breathed, "it's alright. I'm not upset, I just panicked. I'm sorry."
Lucifer pressed his lips to your forehead and planted a small kiss. "Please don't ever think you need to apologize to me for how you feel, sweetheart."
"O-Ok," you stuttered.
"Do you want to stop?," Lucifer asked. You could hear the genuine concern in his voice. Hard as it was to believe, he cared about you more than anything.
You shook your head. "No."
"You're sure?," Lucifer questioned further, "because if you're uncomfortable, we can-"
You cut him of mid-sentence with a quick peck to his lips. He smiled bashfully, a cute blush spreading across his face. "Believe me, Luci, I want this. I mean I really want this, but..." you found it difficult to articulate what you wanted to say.
"Well, if that's the case darling, what if I go first then?," Lucifer proposed. You cocked your head, unsure of what he was talking about. He reached up and began to unbutton his shirt, starting from the top and working his way down. Oh...OH.
Your face instantly feels hotter and your breathing becomes hotter. You tried to say something, but the words caught in your throat. Your mouth has never felt drier. He finally reached the last button of his shirt and you finally see some of his chest. You could almost feel your brain short circuiting.
"Do you wanna do the honors, my dear?," he asked playfully. You gulped as your hands reached towards his shoulders. Gingerly, you slid his sleeves down each arm, slowly revealing more and more skin to you. Once his shirt was completely removed, you couldn’t help but stare. His chest was so smooth and toned, almost like it had been sculpted. “Like what you see?” Lucifer questioned coyly, noticing your unwavering expression of awe.
"W-Well that's hardly fair," you whispered, finally finding your voice, "you're an actual angel. Of course you're going to be gorgeous, I-" you slapped your hand over your mouth once you realized what you had said. "Please pretend you didn't hear that!," you begged through your hand.
Lucifer's face was flushed pink, he could help but smile. He chuckled as he went to remove your hand from your face. "Is that what you really think about me, sweetheart? I'm truly flattered to hear that coming from someone as exquisite as you."
"You...You really think..." you started to say but couldn't finish. Tears began to well up in your eyes, you tried to rub them away before Lucifer could see but it was too late. Lucifer cupped your face and ran his thumbs under your eyes to clear away the tears that had fallen. Your breath hitched, you tried to take in deep heavy breaths so you wouldn't start sobbing.
420 notes · View notes
justmywriting1313 · 12 days
Text
Stupid British Man (John Price x f!Reader)
This is fairly unfinished and an unedited product of my fixation on these stupid military man and every hurt/comfort scenario you can think of but nonetheless enjoy!
PS:- I would really really REALLY love some COD requests since thats where the inspiration for writing is flourishing soooooo yeah please send stuff in thank you<3
Summary: John's a great captain but like all men in love he is also a stupid british man!
Warnings: Talk and direct mentions of smexy times, no aftercare (but not intentional and will come in part 2)
Tumblr media
Jonathan Price is a military man...
More than that, he is a captain and a military man...
A captain in the military needs to embody many qualities, one of the most important being the ability to remain strong and stable in the face of adversity, anchored and calm in uncertainty, and always aware of their surroundings, especially when confronted with unprecedented situations that demand logic and rationality.
It's a trait John was not only confident he possessed but one he prided himself on (considering he was the captain of three complete muppets at times). Yet, as he stands there in his flannel pajamas, his member still damp and somewhat aroused from the recent pounding he gave you not five minutes ago, a warm washcloth in one hand and a bottle of water in the other, John has never been more flabbergasted in his life as he watches you cutely jump to pull your leggings up over your waist.
You had already fastened your bra and were now pulling your old university shirt over your head, a shirt John had previously loved. However, given that he had finally slept with you after a two-month deployment, he would prefer to see you in his clothing or nothing at all. Therefore, the sight of the worn-out piece of cloth offended him, to say the least. Even more so, because neither of you had received a lick of aftercare and the lack of it was making him antsy. Instead of waiting for him in bed like you should have, you were rummaging through your duffel bag for something John couldn't be bothered to inquire about. He was certain that nothing was important enough for you to leave the sheets before he had a chance to clean you up properly. So, with as much calm as he could muster, he said,
"What on fuckin' earth are you doing?
The heavy, accented voice of the captain makes you jump as you straighten up, not having heard him come in. You whirl around to face the man you have been infatuated with since your first meeting, the same man who fulfilled so many of your fantasies over the last few hours and is now standing in the doorway of his room with a flabbergasted look about his rugged face. The tears you had been doing a good job of suppressing so far immediately reappear, though you were adamant about not letting them fall… God forbid you be known on base as the girl who cries after sex. Instead, you give him a smile before turning away as you begin to wrangle your hair into a ponytail and reply,
"What do you mean, what am I doing, John?"
John can only splutter at your nonchalant response, his brain having completely short-circuited… Clearly, something is lost in translation.
You only shrug at his shock before continuing to gather your spread-out things into your small bag, trying your best to curb the small, pathetic whimper that is bound to leave your lips if you spend any more time in this man's room surrounded by so much of him. Instead, in the heavy silence of the room, you mull over the events of what got you in his bed in the first place…
You and John met 8 months ago when you were brought onto his military base as a licensed psychologist specialising in psychotherapy for young adults. Your main job was to work with the younger recruits, which included the ones trained by John's own men. John can still recall the first time he saw you as you came barreling in through his door, your angry voice bouncing off the walls of his office. You were a small thing, barely reaching the bottom of the man's chest, with long hair and high cheekbones. You were dressed in leggings that flared at the bottom and drove John insane, with a striped sweater on top, your soft curves visible through the knitted material.
You were the most tender thing he had seen on base, and despite all this softness, you squared off against the military captain, demanding to speak to his lieutenant and give the man a piece of your mind for traumatizing your recruits more than any battlefield could. John had never been rash a day in his life, and yet he had promised himself he would make everything and anything to do with you a personal matter.
You, on the other hand, had not perceived the butterflies the older Brit gave you until the next day when he had come knocking on your door. Dressed in a tight shirt and his camo pants, he was every girl's dream. It didn't help the butterflies in your stomach when he looked down at you with soft eyes while properly introducing himself. He then led you to the rec room of his task force where his lieutenant was sitting and brooding.
Thus began eight long months… Months of teasing glances exchanged across busy meeting rooms that made him grin and you blush. Soft touches shared either against the back of your hand when you stood side by side or across your cheek as he tucked your hair back. Eight long months of late-night talks where he would seek you out, wherever you were, with a drink of your choice in his hand and an endearing look about him as he let you jabber about how you miss baking and he told you about his parents. Eight months spent with your heart in your mouth as you watched him leave with his team, a desperate prayer for his safety on your lips as he held you against him the night before, limbs tangled together innocently yet intimately. Eight months of yearning that would only grow stronger every time he came back, his eyes finding you in a sea of military personnel and lighting you on fire each time.
And despite all this wanting, two months ago, the night before he was sent out for the longest mission yet, you overheard him with Ghost in the rec room. The box of cupcakes you smuggled into the base held tightly as the tall, rough captain unknowingly broke your heart.
"You say professional sir but everyon' sees the way you look at 'er... the little medic..." "Don't know what you're talkin' about Simon..." Price chuckles and you assume Ghost gives him a look as John continues, "Hell even if I wanted to and I am no' saying I do, I cant do anything about it can I?... she's a kid AND she's military personnel" "Then the late nights in your office are what... just meetings to go over paperwork yeah? Just a little overtime is that it?" "Come on gotta pass the time between deployments somehow" "Is that so then mind if I tell Soap–"
Thats all you had the stomach to hear, although had you stuck around you would have heard the captain confess his love. Instead you made your way to his office where you left the box of baked goods on his table and fled to your room. You spent the night muffling your tears as you came to terms with what you were to John versus what John is to you... The following morning, as you waved some of your recruits bye, your eyes met John's hurt ones, his gaze heavy with questions about where you were last night but you looked away.
Unbeknownst to John his worst worry was coming true when the two months of his deployment gave you enough time to misunderstand your importance to him. That while John was the sun to you, you were a small star in a distant galaxy that had no hope of being anything more than that... And yet you knew you would take anything he gave you, no matter how much it would hurt.
Which is why when he knocked on your room door in the middle of the night, his hair still wet from the shower he had barely managed to squeeze in, eyes tired, lost, and desperate you didn't hesitate. You didn't hesitate when his arms went around your waist drawing you into his chest, head pressed into the crook of your neck as you pressed him into you. You didn't resist or clue him on the turbulence in your head when he pulled away although barely. His hands moving from gripping the back of your shirt to your waist, grip tight as he hefted you into the air forcing your legs to wrap around his waist. Any shock on your part absorbed by his mouth as his lips found yours, your hands coming to hold his face. The kiss was desperate, it was messy. A clash of tongue and teeth as he quickly took control. You hadn't stopped to think or really breath, instead letting John fill the crevices of your mind as he carried you through the empty hallways of the barracks. Somewhere in the back of your head you wondered how no one spotted you but you were quickly distracted by his hand on your ass which kept you pressed up against him. The other on the back of your neck never letting you pulling away long enough and following your mouth as you did so. You never stopped to spill the pent up hurt that had festered unknown to the man as you whimpered into his mouth when his fingers found just the right spot, his muttered praises only getting you to your finish faster...
Your little trip down memory lane as you stuffed another shirt into your bag gave John time to get over his shock, taking a deep breath as he placed the washcloth and bottle on his nightstand. His surprise was now replaced by a desire to fix the situation.
Another aspect of being a captain was observing people, learning to read the little things about how people behaved, and now that the shock had worn off, that's what John set about doing. He watched the tension in your back gather as you stuffed your things into your bag… mementos left over from other nights that John treasured. Things that he would be pulling out of the bag as soon as he had things sorted. He watched with narrowed eyes as your face got redder, the desperation with which you were trying to hold yourself together scaring him…
Something was wrong, and he had been so consumed by his need to see you, to feel you, to know that you were alright, that he didn't stop to consider how things had been left off… To remember that you never came to his room the night before he left and that you didn't look at him at the drop zone. John realized then that whatever had upset you that night had two months to fester in your mind and that he couldn't let you leave in any capacity before everything was laid out.
He shuffled his way over to your figure as you rummaged for your ID card in your bag, needing it to get back to your room. His large hands slid into place on either side of your waist. You jolted at the sensation, registering that his hands were warm while straightening up. John didn't let your tensing stop him as he gently turned you around, his grip turning a little forceful when you tried to resist, but eventually you gave in. Your splotchy cheeks and bitten lips greeted him, and he couldn't help himself when he pressed his lips against your forehead, muttering into your skin as he did so,
"Sweetheart... whats going on?" "What do you mean John?" "I mean whats going on... whats got you packin' up your bag hmmm? Can't imagine you've got an important meetin' this time of the night have you? We also hadn't really finished had we?"
Johns doing his best to catch your eye as he talks but its futile when you keep your gaze steady on anything but his face.
"You wanted to go again?"
John balks at that response. Is that really why you think he wants you to stay? Is that really what you think of him?
"What? No no darlin' I mean you were up before I gotta chance to clean you up... I don't know about the men you've been with before sweet girl but a gentleman cleans up his lady... and of course a cuddle after..."
He pouts through the last part though you don't look up to see it. Your eyes remain trained on his muscular neck and John does his best to remain patient. He knows you, no matter how foreign your apprehension of him may feel right now. He knows you and he knows you're hurting which is why you're avoiding his eyes because the minute he gets you to see him you break,
"Oh... oh you don't have to John... I'm alright I can just go, I'm sure you're tired and want to rest and i don't want to keep you..."
John groans lowly in frustration at you not getting his point, his grip subconsciously tightening as if you would run off the minute he lets go and to his credit thats not a difficult situation to imagine,
"Fuckin' hell, okay sweetheart lets try this another way. Why do you think you have to go anywhere huh? I though' we could lay down and have a cuddle... even took the day off tomorrow to spen' it with you yeah? Want to know what you've been up to? Maybe step off the base and take you out for a proper meal?"
With each word out his mouth your confusion and hurt climb reaching a crescendo until your ears are ringing and you need to get away from this sweet talking brit before you crumble. However, Johns a stubborn man particularly when he sets his mind to something so no amount of squirming on your end makes him let you go as you begin to blabber each source of pain out in the open,
"Let me go, let me go, let me go John... You're so mean you know that? So so so mean... You come into my life all soft and sweet and gentle with me calling me pretty things that I've only imagined being called and you came in and made me care about you when I was so happy in my own bubble but still I started to care and then I find out its only for me to be something you pass time with nothing more and then you come back and I love you so much that ill take anything I can get from you even if its one night and then you have the audacity to stand there and be all sweet and caring when you and I both know that this will never be anything more and you know what maybe I am a child because this is too much–"
Your ranting is cut off by John whose own pulse has become frantic at all that you've laid out before him. You love him! Wait why do you think this is a one night thing? what do you means passing the time? One hands grips your upper arm, the other forcing your face up to look at him as your fists continue to push but to no avail,
"Whoa whoa okay look at me... look at me sweet girl... not letting you go until I ge' your eyes on me yeah? You can fight all you wan' but 'm not letting go until you get you damn eyes on me yeah? Come on... there you go good girl now what do you mean something to pass time with huh? What got that daft idea into that pretty head or that this would be a one night thing? Talk to me yeah "
John's barely finished before the words escape you in a breathless sob
“You, you stupid British man!”
Tumblr media
Okay I was too excited to post it so here but if the reception to it is you know good ill post the second bit which is already written 👀
As always please reblog yes? yes okaieee byee
270 notes · View notes